I love to eat with just a spoon: soups, puddings too, if there is room. I love to eat with forks and knives while dining in with friends and wives. I love to eat with little sticks, especially the tricky bits. But most of all with hands and fingers or any things where flavors lingers.
Western Canadian poet, storyteller and sometimes shit disturber. First published in Sand Patterns, Prince Edward Island, in 1974. Up and down since then. Several chapbooks slouch on bookshelves marking "the sudden grey of decades passing," following a first humiliating rejection, in person.